


Shotgun Wedding

by elfinmouse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfinmouse/pseuds/elfinmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sweat trickled between Dean’s shoulder blades as he came to a stumbling stop at the little stone altar and dumped the bag of ritual ingredients between two squat candles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shotgun Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for a prompt by hobnailedboots on commentfic  
> http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/408081.html?thread=67113489#t67113489

Sweat trickled between Dean’s shoulder blades as he came to a stumbling stop at the little stone altar and dumped the bag of ritual ingredients between two squat candles. “Shit,” he cursed, one hand darting out to catch a bottle of oil as a the whole cabin jolted with the spirit slamming into the door.

“I got it,” Sam shouted over the rising shriek that began somewhere outside the stone walls.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” Lindsey whispered, voice tight with terror as she clutched at her wide eyed boyfriend. Dean hustled them over to his side and turned back to the altar, pulse knocking in his throat as the shriek tapered into a snarl that vibrated the whole room like an evil Magic Fingers.

Holy water in a silver bowl (the windows smashed inward), incense stick lit with a flick of his lighter (the stones in the walls were groaning), ceramic bowl for the…Dean rummaged frantically through the items, patted his pockets. Nothing.

“Sam! I need some salt here!” 

“Kinda…busy Dean,” Sam grunted, bracing his shoulder against another shuddering impact to the door.

Dean wavered for one moment, then dug into his coat pocket with an “Ah!” and pulled out a rock-salt shell. It came apart with a twist and he dumped it into the bowl. It would do.

Taking one last glance at the cramped scrawl of the page he’d ripped from his dad’s journal (and fuck they were going to have to slog the whole way back through that fucking field because he’d dropped the fucking journal, fuck) he checked once to where Sam was barricading the cabin’s door with a ratty sofa, then turned to the trembling couple beside him.

“Ok, ready?” he asked, dragging them forward before they’d finished nodding.

Mumbo-jumbo, a little fingerpainting with stinky oils (“Hurry it UP Dean!” as the roof began to wrench upwards) a quick nick with the knife and a twist of red ribbon and he turned to the girl. 

“Lindsey do you?” 

“Y-yes, I do. I do,” blonde curls flopping as the floor tilted and she almost fell. 

“Mac do you?” 

“It’s Mike.” Stupid, obstinate jackass!

Dean gave a strangled scream and snapped one arm out. “Whatever! Do you or don’t you?” 

“Yes…” “Fantastic!” Dean cut him off before he could say anything else. “Kiss the bride!”

Lindsey and Mike turned and shared one clumsy, fumbling kiss as the whole world seemed to tilt; Dean gasped as the air thickened like water, dense and heavy and hecouldn’tbreaththey‘dbeentoolate….

Everything snapped back to normal.

They all held still for one long moment, listening, before relaxing with a simultaneous gush of relieved breath.

Dean caught Sam’s eyes and grinned. “Alright there Sammy?”

“I’m good,” Sam said, straightening and rolling his shoulders with a sigh.

Dean turned back to the newlywed couple wrapped around each other crying on the floor. “You two ok?”

“Yeah, I think we’re fine,” Lindsey said, brushing tears from her face and giving him a tremulous smile.

“Great,” Dean grinned, then pointed an authoritative finger at the two of them. “Use condoms next time. And no more sex in demon burial sites.”


End file.
